Eight Ways to Ecstasy (20 page)

When she put it that way…

He got in and closed the door behind him. The driver caught his eye in the rearview mirror and rattled off the address Rylan had given over the phone. Rylan nodded tightly, then waved for him to put the partition up.

As the car rolled forward, he turned to Kate. “I'm sorry, that was—”

“The truth.”

He hesitated. “But it wasn't kind.”

“Sometimes, the truth isn't.”

“I just thought…” Because there had been kindness behind the bluntness. “You seemed so upset back there.” She'd freaked him out, was what she'd done, and he had vaulted into problem-solving mode in response, making assumptions. Moving too fast. “I didn't know if she would judge…”

“Oh, believe me, she will.” But there was an edge to how she said it. Some silent double meaning behind the words.

His heart rose into his throat. It was protectiveness, and it was love, and his ridiculous upbringing had only equipped him with so many ways to show that to a person. So many he would even consider showing to her, that was. “I only want to make things easier for you.”

Her shoulders softened as she finally met his gaze. He'd been creeping his hand across the seat, wanting to reach for hers but not quite certain if he should. Her own fingers twitched. With a sigh, she closed them over his, and it was as if the air had been let out of him. He hadn't fucked this up beyond repair.

“I know,” she said.

But there was still something she wasn't telling him.

Kate made it all the way to the patch of hallway outside her door before she had to stop. Turning to Rylan, she put a hand on his wrist.

He gazed down at her, one eyebrow quirked.

Glancing away, she took a deep breath. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

God, it was such a cop out. The real question was whether or not
Kate
wanted to do this. Her mom wasn't some awful shrew or anything. She'd be nice to Rylan to his face.

It was the after part that filled Kate with dread. When her mother picked every single thing he'd said or done to pieces. Looking for Kate's father in his tiniest turn of phrase. The fact that Kate had hidden his very existence from her for this long wasn't going to help matters. Then again, if she had told her mother anything, then they would really be doomed.

Kate might be overly sensitive to white lies and half truths. She might not be the best at trusting.

But she had absolutely
nothing
on her mom.

With a warm, broad hand, Rylan tilted her head up so she was looking at him again. “I do.” He worked his jaw, tightness growing around his eyes. “But if you want me to go…”

He trailed off. He didn't want to leave her, but he'd hold his nose through it if she asked him to.

And if she wanted him with her, standing strong and steady by her side, then in a heartbeat, he'd be there.

Her sudden certainty about that fact hit her like a blow. It settled into her, warming her very bones. Making her decision for her, really.

Shaking her head, she placed her hand over his and twisted to kiss his palm. “Come on, then.”

Time to face the music. Together.

She started apologizing before she'd even fully made it through the door.

“Mom, I am so, so sorry—” She cut off.

Her mother was sitting in the chair at her desk, her luggage beside her. And in her lap was Kate's sketchbook. Not just any sketchbook, either, though a stack of them were piled up at her elbow. The sketchbook from Paris. The one full of pictures of Rylan.

Kate's breath left her in a rush. “Oh.”

Her mother looked up at her. She'd cut her hair again at some point since the last time Kate had seen her. It was a bob now, and redder than usual. She had new glasses, too.

And a new slant to her brow, a different, sly twist to her smile. “You never told me they hired such pretty models for your figure study classes, honey. If you had, I might've signed up for—”

Kate watched it all happen, like a car wreck in slow motion going on right in front of her. Nothing she could do to stop it. No chance of getting out of the way. Her mother's gaze shifted to the side as Rylan followed Kate in, closing the door behind him. Eyes widening, she looked back down at the drawing in her lap and then to Rylan again.

Rylan, who'd put on this smile Kate had never seen on him before. It wasn't the one he used to seduce young women with, and it wasn't the real one she'd come to recognize and treasure in the time since she'd let herself be seduced.

It was one that reminded her of the other life he'd only barely told her about. The one full of boardrooms and negotiations and a father who always wanted more from him.

Then it all seemed to catch up with him, too.

And it was just like that accident on an icy road. Kate's first instinct was to swerve, to let the panic creeping over her win, to run. But sometimes, you had to steer into the skid.

She was a grown woman after all. She had adult relationships, and she'd had sex. She'd seen a naked man, and dammit all, she'd drawn more than one of them in her life. Never with the kind of intimacy and adoration that bled off the page her mother happened to have open, of course, but that should only make it easier to own up to.

It really, really didn't, though.

Still, she took a deep breath. “Mom.” Nothing for it. “This is Rylan. Rylan, this is my mom.”

At least that seemed to break a little of the tension. Without closing it, her mother set the book aside and stood. She was dressed pretty conservatively, for her, in a black turtleneck and a flowing red skirt, a round wooden pendant hanging from a cord around her neck. Somehow, her outfits still took Kate by surprise—the color and the personality in them. Back when her father had been around, there hadn't been much of either to go around. It was good to see. Even now.

“Rylan,” her mother said, glancing meaningfully at Kate. One of her brows seemed permanently glued to her hairline. Fat chance of it coming back down anytime soon.

Rylan recovered quickly, that smooth, slick smile of his going brighter. He crossed the rest of the distance over to her mother and extended his hand. “It's an honor.”

“Oh, I wouldn't go that far.” Kate's mom took his hand. Her gaze went to Kate even as she continued addressing him. “I'd like to say I've heard a lot about you, but I certainly have
seen
a lot of you.”

So apparently they weren't going to be talking around it. If it was possible, Kate's face heated even more, but she held her ground. “I wasn't the one to tell you to go nosing around in my sketchbooks.”

Her mother rolled her eyes as she retracted her hand. “I had to find something to do while I was waiting for you.”

Ouch. “I'm sorry, I just…”

“We lost track of time,” Rylan supplied. He returned to her side, putting a hand at the base of her spine, warmth and support seeping into her from that single point of contact. “Kate was helping me move into my new place, you see.”

“Oh, is that what she was doing?”

Among other things
, Kate was tempted to retort, but she kept it in. She tried to put some warning in her tone as she said, “Mom…”

“Oh, come here already.” She held out her arms.

And that was an offer Kate couldn't resist.

As she fell into the hug, she remembered that day after Rylan had returned, when she and her mother had been talking about this visit, and the longing that had nearly choked her. Her mother could be prickly, and she could be mistrustful, but she was still
Kate
's. No matter how much shit she was going to get over this whole Rylan thing, Kate was suddenly intensely, terribly glad she was here.

“It's good to see you.” Out of nowhere, her eyes prickled.

Her mother squeezed her tighter. “You, too.”

They let go after a long minute. And then there they were, the three of them in her tiny, messy apartment, with no couch, no kitchen table, no real place for three people to sit.

And nothing to say, either, apparently.

Rylan let another few seconds pass before he cleared his throat. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Not since breakfast back in Cleveland.”

As if on cue, Kate's stomach growled. They'd only made it partway through their pastries before they'd gotten…
distracted
that morning.

Rylan wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Rubbing her arm, he suggested, “Brunch?”

Clearly, the man was a genius.

As it turned out, brunch turned into brunch and a walk in Prospect Park, which turned into a walk and this little indie movie that hadn't made it to the art theater near Kate's mom yet, which turned into a movie and dinner, and with every new addition, Kate felt like she'd been given a reprieve. But the thing about reprieves was that eventually you ran out.

After dinner, Rylan opened his mouth as if to suggest yet another possibility, only for Kate's mom to hold her hands up in surrender.

“I was up at four to catch my plane, you guys.” She shook her head. “I'm beat.”

Rylan nodded tightly, glancing to Kate and sticking his hands in his pockets. “Of course.”

They'd been running around like this all day, and his politeness hadn't slipped once. He'd been charming and outgoing, and while he hadn't precisely volunteered the specifics of his situation, he'd been honest to a fault every time her mother had asked him about himself. He'd been this perfect, model boyfriend, honestly. It had impressed Kate at the same time that it had left her completely turned around.

Even though it didn't make a lot of sense for Rylan to ride back with them, Kate wasn't entirely surprised when the car pulled up outside the restaurant and he got right in. At her building, he followed them out onto the sidewalk, making some signal to the driver. “I'll just walk you up,” he said, nodding toward the door.

As Kate let her mother into her apartment, Rylan lingered in the hallway, giving her a meaningful look. Waving her mother inside, Kate said, “I'll be right in.”

The door closed behind her mom, leaving Kate and Rylan on the other side. Rylan heaved out a breath, and Kate hadn't even realized how stiff his shoulders had gotten until he relaxed them.

A sudden, intense gratitude swept over her. He'd performed so beautifully today that it hadn't even been recognizable as performance, but the effort behind it all made itself apparent, now that he'd given up the act.

She let herself sag, too, putting her back to the door and slumping into it. Shaking her head, she glanced up at Rylan through her lashes. “That probably wasn't what you were expecting when you asked to spend the day together.”

“No, not exactly.” He mirrored her position, coming to stand beside her. He nudged her with his elbow. “I didn't mind it, though. It was better than the ballet, right?”

“Much.” At the mention of their second night together in New York, she recalled their conversation from this morning, when he'd originally asked her to go shopping with him for furniture. “We don't have to count this one if you don't want to.”

She'd promised him seven nights, and this would've been their fifth. It didn't seem fair, considering how it played out.

His smile dimmed by a fraction. “I don't know. You told me if we spent the day together, it counted.” When she started to argue, he pushed off the wall, shifting to stand in front of her. He took both her hands in his. “I want every second with you I can get. But I'm not going to quibble with you to get more of them. You gave me a certain amount of time to earn your trust, and if I can't…”

He trailed off, and her heart clenched hard. Was that what he'd been doing today? Just being nice to her mother to win her over? It wasn't a very charitable thought, but she'd been manipulated enough in her life.

Before she could get herself too worked up, something in his eyes went soft. He tilted his head toward the apartment behind them. “She reminds me a lot of you, you know?”

“My mom?”

“Yeah. You've got her eyes.” He let go of one of her hands to brush his knuckles down the side of her face. “Her spark.”

The tightness in her chest eased with the warmth of his touch against her cheek. The warmth in his voice that said this hadn't been mere obligation or putting in time.

Dropping her gaze, she focused on a point beneath the hollow of his throat. “I got that a lot growing up. People always said how alike we were.”

Her father said it all the time. They had the same faults, the same weaknesses.

They'd made so many of the same mistakes.

A fingertip under her chin tilted her head up. Soft blue eyes stared into hers. “You're both beautiful.”

She laughed, tipping forward to rest her brow against his chest. “Please tell me you aren't hitting on my mother through me.”

“I'm hitting on
you
, silly girl.” With that, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close. There was something about the way he held her that made her feel so cared for. So safe.

If it weren't for her mother waiting for her, she might've stayed right there all night, but after a while, she couldn't drag her heels any longer. She pulled away. “I'll call you after she leaves?”

“Or earlier, if you need me. Or if you just want me. For anything, you hear?”

She nodded. Somehow, she actually believed he meant it.

Leaning down, he drew her into one last embrace, a soft kiss that didn't build but that still warmed her from the inside. Then he smiled, parting from her lips. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she echoed. It was almost a physical ache, how much she longed to spend it in his arms. She'd gotten a taste of what that felt like again, and having to go without was going to be even harder now.

She watched him all the way to the end of the hallway, returning the little wave he gave her before he headed down the stairs. As soon as he was out of sight, she thunked her head back against the door. She inhaled nice and deep and held it to the count of three.

Then she opened the door and walked in.

Kate's mom was sitting in the same chair Kate had found her in that morning, her arms crossed over her chest. A heavy silence shrouded the apartment as Kate made her way to the kitchen and poured them each a glass of water. She handed her mother's over without comment and retreated to sit on the bed.

“All right,” she said, steeling herself. “Let me have it.”

Her mother pursed her lips. “I'm not sure what you're expecting me to say.”

Kate swallowed a laugh.

After her father had left, it had been like this weight had lifted off them both. They'd been untethered, floating around in space, and it had been amazing. If anything, her mom had been too permissive, encouraging her art and her social life and whatever made her happy.

With one exception. Never, not once, had Kate so much as introduced her to a boy without getting a rundown of his faults. She'd spent all of an hour with Aaron in the whole year they dated, and it had given her ammunition for months. Kate huffed out a breath. Of course, that could've had something to do with his having been her father personified, only she'd been too swept up at the time to realize it.

She was swept up now, too. All the cool calm she'd meant to maintain when it came to Rylan, all the walls she'd constructed around her heart after he'd revealed himself to her—they were crumbling. Maybe her mom would see what she hadn't. Maybe she could help her avoid another round of heartache.